Aqua Vitae by Kirsteen McNish
A trickle of water dances over my feet, releasing a barely audible sound.
A Welcome from the White Cottage by Liz Williams
‘Wales was an old crush I couldn’t shake. The solitude of its remote coastlines; an oldness that boasted permanence’
The painter’s chair / Attending by Fiona Sampson
like a new
thought or like
the curlew’s
call that
doublejoints
across the Sound
Dent by Myna Trustram
lichen spatters hawthorn branches like paint on a studio floor.